


knowing my fate (is to be with you)

by orphan_account



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 17:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Lio eventually caves and moves in with Galo, they wind up learning much more about each other -“Wait, you were ascenekid?”- mainly things they tried to forget about.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 14
Kudos: 346





	knowing my fate (is to be with you)

**Author's Note:**

> promare has wrangled me to the ground and will not let me go

They, for the most part, had a routine. 

It was a comfortable one they had settled into after the events of the Second World Blaze and after meeting - _actually_ meeting - each other. The one thing they had the most on their hands was time, meaning they could really get to know each other beyond “ah, you’re a firefighter” and “oh, you’re the former leader of the terrorist group Mad Burnish”.

Now, a handful of months later, Lio and Galo knew more about each other than the trivia they had picked up during their ordeal with Foresight. Now, Lio knew many things about Galo Thymos that he would have never guessed: he didn’t always live in Promepolis, he had wanted to be a professional chef when he was younger, he prefers sour things over sweet, he liked his steak medium-rare, hated the dark and loved waking up early. Likewise, Galo knew little things about Lio that possibly only Meis and Gueria knew: he spoke two other languages, he used to dye his hair frequently when he was a teenager, can’t cook anything besides dinosaur chicken nuggets to save his life, preferred sleeping in past noon and envied anyone who was over 5’5. 

Spending nearly all of their spare time together also helped their relationship. Lio was welcomed into Burning Rescue’s headquarters almost immediately, being offered a spare room to stay in for the time being while he looked for an apartment. 

That is, until Galo offered his own place. 

“It’ll be so freakin’ cool to live together!” Lio remembers him saying, cheeks slightly dimpled by his smile. It had made himself smile, but his mind went through all of the things that could possibly go wrong. Galo’s apartment wasn’t messy, save for the few stray socks left on the floor and dishes left in the sink, but their lifestyles might clash. “C’mon, it’ll be way cheaper, too. We could split the rent.”

“I’m fine being at the station for a bit longer...” Lio said, the end of his sentence trailing off when he saw Galo’s quivering lip. “Oh, knock it off. You wouldn’t want me at your place, I’d just take up space.” 

“You’re, like, 4’0 and you weigh 5 lbs, max. Like a rat.”

“Exactly, you don’t want a rat in your place, Galo.”

“Come _on,_ dude,” Galo groaned, pulling up a swivel chair to sit next to Lio, who was scribbling something at his desk with a laptop open. There was much left to do in terms of paperwork and relocation of former Burnish, which Lio had decided to personally take charge of. He leaned onto his arms over the seat, “ _Please?_ I get so bored being by myself, we could do roomie shit together like go grocery shopping or - or go to Ikea!”

Lio glanced back towards the large, stuffed shark sitting on his bed that Galo had insisted he buy for him. “We were _at_ Ikea a week ago.” 

Galo followed his glance, looking towards the unmade bed and shark hanging haphazardly off the mattress. “Aw, you actually sleep with Pebbles. If you moved in, you could have a shit ton of other stuffed animals -”

“Right, because I’m five.”

“Right, and because you’d be saving money.” Galo looked up at Lio through his lashes, so impossibly long and unfairly endearing that Lio had to look away, back to the unfinished form on his desk. “Lio, I swear, you won’t be a bother. I’m _asking_ you because I _want_ to - to, you know, live with you.” 

When he asked with that soft tone and hopeful gaze, every ounce of protest evaporated from Lio’s body. Every awful situation that could happen suddenly seemed silly, blown out of proportion and terribly unrealistic. Maybe living together wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would help him navigate through these weird and warm feelings that had been plaguing him for the past few months since he’s met Galo Thymos. Maybe… 

The blonde sighed melodramatically, pursing his lips. “You owe me that snake we saw at Ikea as a move-in present.”

* * *

Lio accumulated more than material items during his stay with Galo. Besides clothes, clothes and _more_ clothes, he started to pick up on little things Galo did or said. 

For example, he said “bro” a lot. Right next to that would be “dude”. It made sense that he talked like a kid, seeing as they both were relatively young, but something about it was so very endearing to Lio. Not only his speech patterns, but the way he did things - the way he preferred cooking rather than eating out, how he organized his pantry, where he chucked his shoes off as soon as he got home. 

It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall into a routine. They would share a brief breakfast in the mornings (saving _actual_ breakfasts for the weekends, when neither of them had early work), Galo would sometimes pack both of them the same lunches, unless Lio opted for something different, and they’d both come home relatively around the same time to each other and the smell of food. There were changes, of course - sometimes they’d go out to eat, Lio trying something new nearly every week - but it was their schedule. And it was _good._

Lio wasn’t very good at cooking anything that didn’t come prepackaged and ready to pop into the microwave, but Galo was more than handy in the kitchen. Which left Lio to do most of the cleaning - which he didn’t mind, especially after nearly setting their oven on fire from a few pizza rolls (he can still hear Galo’s laughter as he put the flames out with their emergency fire extinguisher, “Still setting shit on fire, huh?”). 

He was helping Galo organize his closet one evening, setting things that were to be donated to the side while finding tidier spots for things to be kept. There were lots of things he himself wouldn’t consider worth keeping: old action figures from Galo’s childhood stuffed in a box, clothes Galo hadn’t touched in years, and a few backpacks that were almost too used to donate. 

The blonde held up a dusty figure of Ultraman, blowing a bit of dust bunnies off of it, “Keep or donate?”

Galo finished underlining something on his tablet before looking up, gasping. “Keep keep keep! That’s Ultraman, we can’t give him away.”

“This isn’t a Power Ranger?” 

“Fuck the Power Rangers, dude, Ultraman is way stronger. Keep.”

Lio smiled, shaking his head as he returned the figure to the box. “Galo, we’re trying to _clean_ out your closet. So far, your donation pile is one backpack and a few shirts.”

“I know, I know, it’s just - so hard.” He sat up from his bed, moving to sit cross legged. “I know I won’t even play with those action figures anymore but they’re all I had when I was a kid. I feel guilty giving them away.”

Lio didn’t say anything right away, turning back to the boxes to finish looking through them. As he turned over old DVDs and video game cases in his hands, he found himself saying, “I used to play pretend a lot when I was younger. Didn’t have a lot of toys growing up, so I mostly played outside with the other neighborhood kids. But,” he picked up a dusty DVD, smoothing the cover off to read its title, “I remember I had this one stuffed dog that my mom gave me for Valentine’s Day. It was a red weenie dog and had ‘I Love You This Much!’ sewn on the side. My God, dude, I carried him everywhere with me and slept with him every night. Like, well into high school.”

Galo smiled, laughing a little. “D’you still have it with you?”

“No, I, um,” Lio sat back, the DVD title _Aladdin_ staring up at him in his hands. “I lost it when I found out I was Burnish. That’s when things got… you know. Complicated.”

He wasn’t sure if him sharing that made Galo feel better, like he meant it to. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he told him that story; he hadn’t thought of that stuffed dog in years. 

Galo sat with a frown on his face, eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry, Lio.”

“Don’t be,” Lio said quickly, putting the DVD back into the box. “All of that was to say that I get you. It _is_ hard giving things up from your childhood.” 

He moved onto a different box, opening it up to find several vinyl sleeves, stacked and stuffed against each other as tightly as possible. Lio whistled, picking up a tattered TOTO album sleeve. 

Galo leapt from his bed, joining Lio on the floor. “Bro, I forgot I had these! Most of them were my parents’, but I think I have a few of my own I got from antique stores…” He fished around, pulling another album out. 

“Oh, _no_ , Ja Rule?” Lio couldn’t help his laughter, “His voice is _terrible,_ Galo. Tell me you don’t have any more of his albums.”

“He was fuckin’ cool when I was a kid! _Everyone_ listened to Ja Rule!” 

Galo began pulling out more vinyl sleeves, stacking them on the floor by genre as he recounted where he found each album. That ABBA one was from a huge antique store off the highway, this Gorillaz one was a birthday gift when he was thirteen, those Mariah Carrey albums belonged to his mom and _no_ he didn’t know all of the words and fuck you so what if he did, she’s a goddamn good singer.

Lio was rather impressed with his collection, tracing the outlines of each one he lifted from the box. They were in near perfect condition, the records themselves only a bit dusty. More than the records, Lio noticed the grin on Galo’s face with every album he pulled out, flipping each to read their track listings. Pure nostalgia fueled his smile, and Lio would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit nostalgic himself. 

He gasped, huffing out a laugh as his eyes read the words _Metro Station_ on one of the last few vinyls. “You do _not_ \- oh, my inner scene kid is screaming right now.”

“You were a _scene_ kid?” Galo practically howled with laughter, “I fucking knew it, I _knew_ it the minute I saw that leather-y outfit -”

“Shut up, shut up, it was _cool_ and I begged my parents to let me cut my hair and dye it -”

“Oh, god, did you talk like a scene kid? If I say ‘rawr’ will you -”

“Galo Thymos, you’re giving me flashbacks that I don’t _need -”_

When their laughter had subsided a bit, Galo immediately went deeper into his closet for his turntable. Lio buried his face in his hands, face hot with memories of middle school and high school’s bright hair colors and questionable fashion sense. He quickly left to get that case of beer he saw stashed in the back of the fridge while Galo untangled the wires to the turntable. If he was going to continue spilling his innermost secrets, he would do so while drunk. At least he won’t be able to remember any of it in the morning. 

There was enough space for the turntable on one of Galo’s nightstands, after tossing some empty water bottles and noodle cups away. Their stacks of vinyls sat next to it, each picking and choosing which ones they wanted to listen to. And, of course, at the very top of the list was Metro Station. 

Galo dropped the needle onto the record, and Lio groaned. “I used to listen to this on repeat. I think I even remember all of the words.”

“I remember they played this song at my middle school dance,” Galo was already bobbing his head to the song, mouthing _shake shake shake it_ and drawing another laugh from Lio. “Everyone lost their _minds_. Dude,” He set his beer down, grabbing Lio’s hand. “Fuck it. Dance with me.”

Lio hesitated for the tiniest of seconds. Then, he took a huge gulp of Sam Adams and stood up. “You’re lucky this is a good song.”

Outside, the streets were busy with the typical Friday night buzz from nightclubs and bars. No one would have guessed that two idiots were losing their minds to a song from over a decade ago, emptying beer bottles by the minute. No one would have guessed that those two idiots were terrible dancers, too lost in their own laughter and in each other to even try to be in rhythm with the music. 

But anyone on earth could have guessed they were terribly, _stupidly_ in love. 

From one decade old song to another, they went through Galo’s vinyl collection - as well as their cases of beer - for the majority of the night. Lio knew every word to 3OH!3’s album, Galo nearly broke his leg dancing to Spice Girls, and their nextdoor neighbor pounded on their wall when they belted _Everytime We Touch_ from Cascada. 

It was stupid and such a _teenager_ thing to do, but goddammit, Lio felt so fucking _alive._ He felt loose and warm and _happy_ that Galo was there with him, in _their_ apartment listening to _their_ music. To think he would be here when a few months ago he was being hunted down for being the leader of a _terrorist_ group - no, to think he would be here after saving the world with Galo Thymos, of all people, dancing to ABBA’s _Dancing Queen_ and holding his hands like they were his lifeline. 

When the last beer bottle had been tossed away and Galo had put in the last vinyl on their list, Lio was nearly, practically drunk. Not terribly so, not in the way where he can’t walk straight or even talk coherently, but his mind was somewhere nicer, easier. He wanted to tell Galo everything. He wanted to tell him how he adored the way he looked when he woke up, yawning and trying to sort out his bedhead. He wanted to tell him how much he loved his cooking, how it reminded him of home. He wanted to tell him that he secretly took his tshirts when he wasn’t home, wearing them or using them as a pillowcase just so he could pretend he was there. He wanted to tell him how grateful he was for saving his life, for not even hesitating to press his lips to his. 

Which, speaking of, Lio really, _really_ wanted to do again. 

_Waterloo_ blasted from the turntable, and Lio felt adventurous. Galo was smiling at him in that special way, holding his hand and twirling him about his room, pressing him close before spinning him back outwards. The rest of the world blurred, and nothing mattered more at that moment than how much Lio wanted to lean up and kiss him. 

He took advantage of that adventurous adrenaline running in his veins, taking control of their dance to pull Galo close by the hips. The music and Galo’s surprised laughter rang loud in Lio’s ears, egging him on as he spun and pulled and twirled, careful not to step on his toes. 

It was odd, he realized much, _much_ later - though he lost his flames, he felt as if he won something much more valuable in exchange.

Lio grabbed Galo by the shoulder and hand, spinning before planting his foot outwards, dipping him. Their noses knocked together, then Lio shifted just slightly - 

Galo leaned up and met him halfway. 

_Oh God,_ Lio thought, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, _I love him. I love him and wow he tastes like beer but I think I do too so it’s probably okay I love him I love him I love him._

(They _did_ both taste like beer but it was okay, as neither complained or stopped from going further. Lio woke up the next morning with sufficient evidence of that on his neck and shoulders.)

* * *

Galo swiped through Lio’s photo album on his phone, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Honey, you -”

“Not. A goddamn word.” Lio said pleasantly, draped across Galo’s lap on the couch. He kept his focus on the book on his stomach, flipping a page. “This is the one and _only_ time you will see these pictures.”

“God, the-the rainbow hair, the lip piercing, the _filters…”_

Lio reached for his phone, but Galo was quick to hold it up high enough so that he couldn’t reach it. “I was one of the most popular kids in school because I looked like that, Thymos, you’re just jealous.”

It had been a few months since That Night, and things hadn’t really changed. They still had their routine - they shared meals together and did laundry on Sundays, separated colors from whites and budgeted their grocery shopping. But sometimes Galo would loop his pinky around Lio’s and Lio would take his hand, sometimes Lio would hold onto Galos’ arm when they went for walks, sometimes Galo would press his cheek to the top of Lio’s head when they watched movies together. Lio’s room was hardly used anymore, also, since they shared Galo’s room - which was _their_ room, at this point, wasn’t it?

(Lio remembers walking into their room one afternoon and seeing a large, stuffed weenie dog sitting on their bed, staring up at him with glass eyes and a dopey smile. “I Love You This Much!” was sewn onto its side, and while it wasn’t the exact same one his mother had given him years before, Lio had to swallow a lump in his throat as he hugged it close to his chest.) 

They were subtle changes, but they meant the entire world. 

“You should dress like this again. You could bring scene kid fashion back, bro.” Galo said, eventually setting his phone onto the coffee table. 

“I’m not looking to get bullied on the internet, _bro.”_

“But _bro,_ you’d look totally hot now that you’re grown up. I’ll even help you dye your hair!” 

The blonde couldn’t help but grin, hiding his face behind his book. “You’re impossibly supportive and I am absolutely in love with you, but you’re so fucking stupid.”

Galo tipped the book out of the way, pecking the tip of his nose. “I love you, too. Oh, wait, sorry - I meant to say ‘rawr’.”

Lio shoved his book into Galo’s cheek, moving to get off his lap before he was pulled back by his waist, laughter bubbling out of him. 

It was all, for the most part, another bit of their ordinary routine. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> shake it by metro station rly be a bop tho


End file.
